


Broken

by RainOfFire



Category: Unbroken (2014)
Genre: Angst, Broken Louis, One-Shot, Short, based on the film, the bird beating up louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-30 01:33:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10150181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainOfFire/pseuds/RainOfFire
Summary: Reality always catches up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a very short fic.
> 
> A fictional account of the characters in the film 'Unbroken'. Not to be regarded as portrayal of the real Louis. No disrespect intended!

He thinks of his sweet mother. He remembers the way her kind face crinkles into the small delicate lines when she smiles. Her warm brown eyes brimming with love looking up at him - proud.

His father sits upright in his armchair pretending to read the newspaper while Louis and his brother argue about which one is more popular with the girls. His father’s small smile always gives it away but he never says anything and neither do they, but his father’s eyes never leave the headlines.

Then the rich sweet scent of the fresh tomato and basil sauce simmering from the pot on the stove in their tiny little kitchen fills his nostrils.

His sisters set the small round table giggling away to themselves, talking about their boyfriends in hushed voices. The radio crackles and murmurs of music flitter softly in the background. 

Everyone sits at the table, their food laid out in front of them and wait for him to join. He pulls out his chair but stops when there is knocking at the door.

Excusing himself, he walks to the front door of their modest home opening it to see Officer Collier standing there. The officer’s knuckles coil around the familiar baton in his hand. Louis looks up at the policeman’s blue eyes and the look of unfathomable hatred stares back at him.

The next few seconds are a blur. The baton flashes in front of his eyes before he is quickly knocked to the ground. Blood explodes from his nostrils, streaming down his mouth and chin. He tries to blink through the dizziness while his hands scramble over the ground grasping at anything to grip onto to pull himself back up on his feet. Then the pain of the hit starts to sink in. 

The collar of his shirt tightens around his neck and he’s lifted off the porch forcing him onto his feet. 

‘Look at me’ the man sneers in his face. Spit flies out of his mouth.

Louis tries to train his blurry eyes onto the man’s face, but when he does, another blow to his head sends ripples of pain up through his body and he stumbles back onto the door frame. The blows are relentless. Louis is thrown back onto the ground. He can’t get back up: his hands feel as though they are alight, his legs powerless.

The Californian sunlight passes momentarily as the baton lifts up once more; Louis wraps his arms over his face but it doesn’t stop the hit to his nose again. Within seconds the metallic taste of blood floods his mouth. His eyes peer from behind his bruised arms at the man looming above him. He’s not wearing the black police uniform anymore, instead, his eyes take in a long tan-colored coat. He swallows the saliva gathering up at the back of his throat as his shoulders start to shudder uncontrollably. 

His eyes haltingly trail down the man’s body then drop to his boots. A choked whimper gurgles out his mouth as his familiar pitiful reflection looks back at him through the immaculate polish of the boots standing before him.

‘No, no, no, no’ the words are barely audible, pained whispers under his breath. He pulls his arms behind him and drags himself backwards. He starts to scramble away back to the safety of his home but stops when two piercing dark eyes suddenly stare back at him, nails clawed deep into his shoulders.

A broken wail breaks out of his lips and his eyes jerk shut.

‘You are nothing.’

The words echo inside the walls of his brain, getting louder and louder until he can’t bear it anymore. An ear-piercing scream startles him back to reality. It’s his own. The distant aroma of his mother’s home cooking and the faint laughter of his sisters fade into nothingness, replaced by the far off sound of stomping boots; the porch floor now soot-covered concrete. The boot slams on the ground inches away from his head causing a swarm of dust to choke up his senses. His eyes glaze over. He’s back in hell.

**Author's Note:**

> Really loved the film. Miyavi was a bonus as well despite the asshole he played. The 'relationship' (for lack of a better word) is a disturbing but interesting one. This is based on the film version not the book version. I know the film is based on real events and real people but this is entirely fictional! Sorry it's a bit weird for me to write a fic about real events! >.>
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading! :D


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